


the house don't fall when the bones are good

by arysa13



Series: Two Week Challenge - Round Two [5]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 04:55:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18359036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysa13/pseuds/arysa13
Summary: Bellamy says something to upset Clarke, and he has to use the best friend card on her to get her to talk to him again.





	the house don't fall when the bones are good

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lightcomingthroughthedarkness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightcomingthroughthedarkness/gifts).



> me: i need a reason for clarke to be mad at bellamy  
> my sister: he pretended not to see her when they were in public
> 
> (not what happens in this fic, just need you all to know how dumb my sister is)
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you Mimi for trusting me with your prompt, I hope you like it!

Bellamy loves these lazy Sunday mornings with his girlfriend. They’ll stay in bed until after ten, touching, talking, laughing with each other until hunger gets the better of them and they have to get up. He’ll make breakfast for her, and depending on the day they might go back to bed for a while, or go for a walk, or read in silence together in the same room.

Today, he makes pancakes. He watches fondly as Clarke heaps ice cream onto her pancakes, and then pours chocolate sauce over it. Clarke looks up and sees him watching her.

“What? It’s Sunday. Everyone knows what you eat on Sunday doesn’t count,” Clarke says.

“I didn’t say anything,” Bellamy chuckles. Clarke offers him the chocolate sauce.

“You want some?”

“You’re sweet enough for me,” he says. Clarke rolls her eyes.

“Suck up,” she says, but she’s not hiding her smile very well. Bellamy smiles, shaking his head as he cuts into his own stack of pancakes, topped with just butter and a drizzle of maple syrup.

Sometimes he can hardly believe things are still so good. They’ve been together a year, been living together for two months, and neither of them have shown any signs of running. Bellamy has never been in a relationship that feels so _solid_. Like they could face anything, any storm, any earthquake, any disaster, and they’d still make it through. Maybe that’s what happens when you’re with your best friend. When you spent six years building a foundation, getting to know everything about each other, falling in love, before you actually make the leap into a relationship. Except with Clarke, it was less like a leap and more like the next, natural step.

“So, I was thinking,” Clarke says.

“Yeah?”

“I think we’re ready for the next step.”

Bellamy freezes. He glances up from his pancakes, mind whirring. Because they’re already _living together_ , which means the next step is well, marriage. And he absolutely with out a doubt wants to marry her. But he also wants to _propose_ , and this is so not how he saw them getting engaged.

“We should get a dog,” Clarke says. Bellamy’s shoulders sag in relief. He snorts out a laugh.

“A dog, Clarke?” he teases. “Please, you couldn’t even keep that succulent Monty gave you alive.”

Clarke tenses, and her smiles drops. “Say what you really think, why don’t you?” she mutters. Bellamy is taken aback by her reaction. It was just a joke, after all. The truth, but a joke all the same.

“What?”

“Forget it, Bellamy,” she huffs. She drops her fork, and stands. She stalks out of the room towards their bedroom, leaving her pancakes unfinished.

“Clarke,” Bellamy calls after her. He’s bewildered. She’s mad at him, and he has no idea why. He hates it when she’s upset, hates it even more when it’s his fault. He gets up and follows her to the bedroom. He tries the handle, but she’s locked the door. “Clarke,” he tries again. “Come on, open the door.”

“Go away!”

“Clarke,” he says. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I was only kidding around. Let’s just talk about it.” Silence. “Clarke, baby, come on.”

“I’m not your baby,” she snaps. Okay, so she’s really mad.

“Okay,” he says. Time to try a different tactic. “You’re not my baby,” he says. “Are you still my best friend? Cause I could really use my best friend right now.”

The silence stretches on, and Bellamy is sure it isn’t going to work. But then, “Why?” Her voice is closer now, and he’s sure she’s just on the other side of the door.

Bellamy sighs. “Because I’m an idiot. There’s this girl. I’m completely in love with her. But I said something dumb and now she’s mad at me and I don’t know how to fix it.” He leans against the door, waiting for her answer. He slides down the door and sits on the floor. On the other side of the door, he can hear Clarke do the same. “What should I do?” he asks.

Clarke takes a moment to answer. “Well, do you know what you said that made her mad?”

Bellamy shakes his head, though Clarke can’t see him. “I know what I said. She said she wanted to get a dog, and I made a joke about her succulent dying. I don’t know why it made her mad though. Any insight?”

Clarke is silent again. “Maybe…” she starts, before trailing off.

“Yeah?” Bellamy says quickly, hopeful.

“Maybe it wasn’t what you said, exactly. But what your words implied.”

“What did they imply?”

“That you don’t think she’s capable of looking after a plant, let alone a dog. Or, you know, anything else you might want in the future. Kids, for example.”

His stomach drops. Fuck. He’s such a fucking idiot. Had his stupid joke really made her think he doesn’t want all that with her?

They’ve never talked about having kids exactly. They’ve briefly touched on the abstract idea that they both want them, someday. But they’ve never had a proper discussion about it. When they want them, or how many. Whether or not they want them with _each other_.

“Clarke,” Bellamy says. He swallows. “That is not what I meant at all.” He gets to his feet. “Please, open the door,” he pleads. He hears Clarke get up, then the click of the lock. She cracks the door open. Her face is red and blotchy, like she’s been crying.

“Fuck, I made you cry,” he says. He feels awful. “Clarke. Of course I think you’re capable of caring for a dog, and for our kids.”

“You don’t think I’m cold and selfish and unfeeling?” she asks, opening the door further.

“What? Who said that?”

Clarke shrugs. “Everyone else I’ve ever dated. Raven even said it once.”

Bellamy shakes his head. “Clarke, you are the most selfless, loving person I know. You give so much, and you never ask for anything in return. You’re going to make a great mom someday.”

Clarke gives him a watery smile. “Stop it, you’re going to make me cry again. Do you really think that?”

“Of course I do,” Bellamy says. “If anything, you’re _too_ giving. You gotta let people take care of you sometimes.”

“Like you, you mean?”

“Yeah, like me,” Bellamy says. “Come here.” He holds out his arms and Clarke falls into him, burying her face into his shoulder. “Are you my baby again?” He feels her nod against him.

“You said our kids,” she murmurs.

“Huh?”

Clarke pulls her head back to look up at him. “When you said I was capable. You said _our_ kids.”

“Of course I did. You think I want a family with anyone else? You’re it for me, Clarke. I’m all in. I want it all. With _you_. I thought you knew that.”

“I guess I did,” Clarke smiles. “But it’s nice to hear you say it anyway. And just so you know, you’re it for me too. And no dumb thing you say is ever going to change that.”

Bellamy grins. “Thank god for that. Because I say a lot of dumb things.”

“You can’t use the best friend card on me every time I’m mad.”

“How many times can I use it?”

“You get two more.”

“Three strikes and I’m out?” Bellamy jokes.

“Just means you have to come up with another way to make me happy,” Clarke says. Bellamy tightens his arms around her. He leans in and brushes his nose against hers.

“Making you happy is my life mission,” he says. “And I can think of plenty of ways.” He kisses her.

“Bellamy,” Clarke whispers.

“Yes, baby?”

“I really want the rest of my pancakes.”

Bellamy throws his head back as he laughs. He lets her go and takes her hand. “Okay,” he says. “And then let’s talk about what kind of dog we’re going to get, yeah?”

**Author's Note:**

> main tumblr: keiraknighted  
> fic tumblr: arysafics


End file.
